


Do You Understand?

by sherlockian4evr



Series: Getting It Together [11]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bored Sherlock, First Time, Hand Jobs, John Loves Sherlock, Johnlock - Freeform, Love Confessions, M/M, Sherlock Loves John, Virgin Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-10 01:31:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5563612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockian4evr/pseuds/sherlockian4evr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John cross the line one too many times and Lestrade decides to teach them a lesson by locking them up in a cell for the night. It’s been less than 5 minutes and Sherlock is already bored. There is nothing to distract him. Well nothing except John. Hmm…</p><p>Beta read by <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110">Sherlock1110.</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Do You Understand?

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Mycroft Knows Best](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5564779) by [Sherlock1110](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110). 



Sherlock, of course, had to be manhandled towards the cell. John had gone far more easily, but he had complained, “Come on, Greg. It wasn’t that serious.”

Lestrade barked out a laugh. “God, you’re getting to be as bad as him.” His words were accompanied by a head jerk in the struggling detective’s direction. “This should do for the night.” Greg grinned as they stopped in front of a steel door. “Since the cells are full of people that would like to have a go at you, the two of you will be spending the night in solitary. Together.”

Sherlock paused in his struggles and pinned the DI with a glare. “Then it can hardly be defined as solitary, _Gavin_.”

“Shut it, Sherlock,” John ordered, then he turned to Lestrade. “You can’t be serious. He’ll die of boredom, Greg, and drive me mad in the process. I’ll take my chances with someone else.” He shook his head at the insulted look on Sherlock’s face.

Greg opened the door and gestured to the two men to enter. “In you go, gents.” As he went to close the door, he added, “Enjoy your stay with us,” then he was gone.

John stalked across the room and stopped, his back straight and his hands fisted at his side. It would be a long night and he knew it would only get longer. It was best not to start with an argument, that could wait until they were back at 221B. The doctor threw himself down on the poor excuse for a bed and turned to face the wall.

Sherlock had, predictably, begun pacing the length of the cell – four paces in one direction, four paces back. They had been in the cell for under a minute and John was ignoring him, the situation was intolerable. “John… I’m _bored_.”

The doctor grunted. Great, it had started already. “Trying to sleep, you git.” There was no response and it was far too quiet. He could practically feel Sherlock’s laser-sharp gaze piercing him. John sat up and faced the room, ready with an angry statement - an angry statement he never uttered.

At some point, Sherlock had fallen silently to his knees. He _was_ staring at John, but it was with a look that John had never seen before. The detective looked almost hungry, predatory. If it had been anyone else, John would have said that he looked aroused. Shit. John was aroused. Not good, that. He crossed both his arms and legs and turned slightly away from Sherlock, hoping to hide his growing erection. “What?” he asked, nervously.

The detective licked his lips and crept forward until he was just in front of John. “I’m _bored_.”

“Right. I got that much, but…” the doctor broke off as Sherlock reached out and ran his hand along John’s thigh. The doctor jerked back, panicked. “No!”

“Yes,” Sherlock hissed. “And don’t give me the ‘not gay’ line. We both know that’s not true. It’s simply a defence mechanism you enacted when I turned you down far too hastily at Angelo’s that night.” With a grin, he slid his hand between John’s crossed legs and squeezed. “You want this, John.”

The doctor shuddered and closed his eyes. God, he did want it. He wanted it badly, more than anything he had wanted before in his life, but not like this, not as a cure for Sherlock’s boredom. “I’m not a toy. You can’t just play your little game with me because you’re bored and then throw me to the side when a case comes along. I’m a living, breathing, feeling person.”

Sherlock blinked up at John for a moment, biting his lip. “Don’t be dull, John. It’s not becoming. I’m bored, yes. I’m a selfish bastard, true. I like to play games, why not? But not with you. Never with you.”

John looked away, desperately wanting to believe the detective, but how could he? “Sherlock…”

The detective used a finger on his free hand to press against John’s lips, silencing him. “I’ve never… Not once, not even when I was using… I never wanted to, John, before you came into my life.” He gazed at the doctor, willing him to figure it out. “Do you understand?”

John started to nod, but he ended up shaking his head. “Not even remotely.”

Closing his eyes, Sherlock bowed his head for a moment. When he looked back up and locked eyes with John, he spoke, his voice far steadier than he expected it to be, “I’m a virgin.”

“No, you’re not,” John disagreed, his mouth agape. “You can’t be.”

“I assure you, John, I am.”

“But look at you. You’re gorgeous, brilliant, amazing.” John’s hand came up to tangle in Sherlock’s curls. “You’re the most appealing, wonderful person I’ve ever known.” That’s when the doctor saw it - Sherlock’s pupils were blown wide, his pulse was racing at his carotid and his breathing was quick and shallow. “Do you really want me?” John asked in wonder.

“Yes.” Sherlock shuffled even nearer until he was pressed bodily against John’s legs. “You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted. No one else matters.” The detective watched as John’s defences fell and he uncrossed his arms and legs. “You like that, don’t you. That you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted.” John licked his lips and nodded. Sherlock glanced at John’s crotch where there was a growing bulge and made a quick calculation. “You hold my heart in your hands.” Yes, John’s pupils went a bit wider. “You’ve taught me to love.” The doctor shifted, seeking relief for his aching cock. Sherlock reached up to unbutton John’s flies.

“Wait.” John licked his lips and brought his hands up to cover Sherlock’s. “Are you certain?”

The detective nodded. “Please.”

John’s hands fell away and he let Sherlock finish opening his jeans. The detective slid one hand into John’s jeans and felt his erection through his pants.

“Oh,” Sherlock breathed, his eyelashes fluttering. He looked up at John, biting his lip once again as he considered. How would John react? He had to know, besides the words would be true. “I… I think… I love you.” John’s cock jumped in the detective’s hand. Wonderful!

“Get up here, then,” John murmured as he tugged on Sherlock’s arm. He pulled the detective up onto the bed and kissed him deeply. John closed his eyes, hardly believing this was happening. “I’ve loved you for so long, wanted you.” He unfastened Sherlock’s trousers and reached in to free him from the confines of his pants. John started stroking him slowly.

“No,” Sherlock breathed and fumbled to free John’s cock. “Together,” he insisted.

“God, yes,” John agreed.

It was awkward, both of them trying to please each other and getting in one another’s way. They finally settled, laughing, with Sherlock’s large hand wrapped around both their cocks and John’s smaller, calloused hand on top. They moved in time together, the strokes starting long and slow and quickly becoming quick and frantic. Sherlock shivered and shuddered. He gasped and moaned. It was the most beautiful sight John had ever seen.

“Look at you, you mad, beautiful thing,” John crooned. “Go ahead and fall. I’ll catch you. I’ll always catch you. Come on, Love. Come for me.”

Sherlock gave a little cry and went stiff, his orgasm washing over and through him. John’s name was a prayer on the detective’s lips, “John, John, John.” His hand stilled as he blinked slowly, trying to think through the haze of post orgasmic bliss. Oh! Sherlock started moving his hand again, wanting to see John come. “Please, I want to see you...”

“Oh, fuck, Sherlock,” John cried out, then “Yes!” He threw his head back as his own orgasm overtook him and the world faded away.

The next morning, Greg unlocked the door to solitary and pushed it open. The sight that greeted him was one he had never expected to see. In fact, he had given up on it ever happening. John was laying on the low bed with Sherlock wrapped around him. The consulting detective was snoring softly.

John’s eyes met Lestrade’s and they both smiled.

It was about time.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to podfic or translate this or create a drawing based on it, go for it. Just please let me know and link back to my fic.
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](http://shippingintothenight.tumblr.com).


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